


Anger Managment

by pinkys_creature_feature



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anger Management, Blackouts, Ethically Questionable Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkys_creature_feature/pseuds/pinkys_creature_feature
Summary: John has anger issues and it gets him into trouble and Gordon orders him to attend anger management. Can Barsad and Bane help him in time to save his job?





	Anger Managment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brookebond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/gifts).



> This fic is for the lovely BrookeBond! My prompt was "anger management". 
> 
> Thanks so much to the wonderful Oceaxe for the beta and everyone in the inception slack for cheering!

“John, listen to me. It’s either this or I have to suspend you without pay.” Gordon sighed, exasperated. “You broke a man’s arm, John. That behavior is unacceptable.” 

 

“He was beating that girl! He–” John clenched his jaw, pressing his lips firmly together. 

 

“He is a criminal, yes. He deserves to be in jail. But with the current climate we can’t have officers tackling people and breaking their arms. Your reaction just now shows me that you might benefit from anger management more than you know.” Gordon held the papers towards John, a comforting smile pulling at his lips. “You’re on a desk until further notice, but I will keep you busy with interesting cases to fill the time.” 

 

“Whatever.” John huffed, grabbing the papers with more venom than he intended. He stormed from the office, walking directly to his car. There were still three hours on his shift but he needed to get away.  He didn’t remember much after crossing his apartment threshold.

 

     An hour later, John’s knuckles ached as he studied the fresh hole in his bathroom wall. Red smudges on the drywall told him that he had split them. John didn’t want to admit it, but he had started to have black outs. 

 

     He didn’t remember breaking that man’s arm. He came back to himself when the man’s screams of pain reached John’s ears. The last thing he remembered was seeing a woman cowering in the alley, the man’s fist pulled back. Then blackness. 

 

     With a sigh, John set about cleaning and patching up his hands. He was going to have a long night trying to patch that hole in the wall. 

 

*************

 

John sat in his car outside the community outreach building. It looked worse for wear; the yellow brick greyed with age, the wooden casings of the windows flaking in patterns that looked like a mosaic of past colors. 

 

He had the option to pick which meeting he wanted to attend.This one was late enough that he could eat dinner first, close enough to easily find but far enough away that no one would recognize him. 

 

John watched as a few people disappeared behind the metal doors.They were there for the same reason he was and the meeting was about to start. He had avoided coming for over a week until Gordon suspended him for five days, insisting that if John attended two meetings before the next week, he could come back early. 

 

John wished he could just stay outside and say he’d gone, but Gordon had it set up where he had to have the group leader confirm that he had been there for the full time. The clock in his dash showed three minutes past eight. He was already late. He hoped the group leader would still count him as there. 

 

When John pushed open the metal door, he was surprised to find a large room, most likely the building’s “meeting room”, with a circle of chairs in the center of the room. The smell of cheap coffee greeted him as well as several curious glances. 

 

“Ah, a new face! Welcome and take a open seat.” A sleepy-eyed man gestured to several empty seats. John handed the man his paper and plopped into a open seat. “Well, John,” the man said while reading the sheet. “Our normal group leader is out recovering from surgery but I’m sure you will still find our meetings useful. Since we have someone new here, why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves? I’m Barsad.” 

 

One by one the men and women stated their names: Coleen, the goth chick. Roy, the trucker. Sam, the middle manager, and on down the line. John muttered his name when it was his turn, slumping down in the metal chair like a petulant child. He was there right? No one said he had to participate. 

 

Barsad spent some time discussing coping skills and how to find what triggers a person’s anger. John was sure it would have been insightful, had he been more than half listening. After that, one or two people shared their stories. John’s attention was only piqued when a man talked about how he would black out and beat his wife. 

 

John imagined breaking his fingers. He rolled his eyes at the man when he talked about how he was “improving” and that he hadn’t raised a hand to his wife in months. John didn’t believe him and stopped listening. 

 

When the two hour meeting was over, John wordlessly collected his paper, avoiding Barsad’s knowing gaze. 

 

John went home, grabbing his shoes as soon as they were off and hurling them, they hit the wall with a loud bang. He took a deep breath and went to eat leftover chinese out of the box while standing in front of the fridge. 

 

The next meeting went pretty much the same way. Coleen talked about how her anger made her hurt herself instead of others. John felt sympathy for her as she showed the scar on her legs. He was proud that she didn’t look ashamed and she didn’t cry. 

 

     But John didn’t share. He didn’t listen as much as he could get away with. He just collected his paper and went home. 

 

When he was leaving the third meeting, Barsad held on to the paper as John tried to take it. “This does nothing if you don’t participate.” 

 

John pulled the paper free and stormed out the door. He ended up at a nearby bar where he picked up a guy that looked good enough to work his frustrations out on. John almost felt bad when he faked being asleep after the man asked if he could stay. A little while later, John listened as the man got dressed and left. 

 

John skipped the next two meetings. 

 

*************

 

That next week John blacked out and nearly punched a beat cop that sneered at him. Gordon stepped in and pushed John away. 

 

John was officially put on “medical leave” so that he could still receive a paycheck. He wasn’t sure why Gordon was being so nice; he had every right to fire John on the spot. 

 

That latest incident was really eating away at John. It was the first time John felt afraid after a blackout. The comment wasn’t anything that normally would have summoned so much rage from him and that disproportionate of a reaction made John very uneasy at the thought of what could come next. 

 

John went back to the anger management group that same night. 

 

When he walked in, there was something different about the air in the room. It seemed to cling to his skin, making him want to pull back out the doorway. John shook the feeling off and went to make himself a cup of coffee. 

 

“You must be the ‘troubled one’ my brother speaks of.” John felt the man’s presence before he heard the voice. The man had a thick accent that John couldn’t place. John turned, only to be eye level with broad shoulders that flexed as the man removed a motorcycle helmet, exposing a skull bandana underneath, covering the bottom half of his face. 

 

John was taken by the sheer size of the man and stood frozen for several seconds too long. The other man noticed, his slate grey eyes glittering with mirth. John cleared his throat, willing his dick into submission and hoping that his voice would be steady. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

 

“I think you do.” The man said as he walked past John to take a seat in the circle. 

 

John took a moment to adjust the awkward half boner he had developed before taking his spot in the circle as far away from the mystery man as he could. Unfortunately that ended with John sitting directly across from him.

 

     Barsad clapped the large man on the shoulder and addressed the circle. “As some of you know Bane has been home recovering but we are glad to have our leader back. Hopefully I didn’t take things too off the rails in your absence.” Barsad smiled, shocking John. He had never smiled. Smirked, sure. But this was a genuine smile. 

 

     The man, Bane, clasped Barsad’s hand before he could sit down. “I’m sure you have handled things wonderfully.” Bane slipped easily into the role of the leader.  He was able to engage John in a way that Barsad hadn’t. John listened. He still wasn’t ready to speak, but he listened. 

 

     When the meeting was over Barsad stopped John, pulling him to the side. “I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news but if you don’t start participating more we won’t be able to sign your sheet. Bane is very insistent that people participate.” 

 

     In that moment John hated Barsad and his sleepy eyes. “If I don’t want to talk, you can’t force me.” John spat.

 

     “It’s not that, John. Can you tell me three ways to identify triggers to your anger?” Barsad’s blue eyes refused to look away, making John squirm. “I didn’t think so. We don’t expect you to share until you are ready, but we do ask that you at least make an attempt to learn something.” 

 

     John gave a stiff nod. Turning on his heels to leave, he quickly darted around Bane,who John hadn’t realized was behind him. 

 

     When John reached his car he slumped into the seat, taking a deep breath. Maybe Barsad was right. His blackouts had been coming at strange times, like the rage inside him was a volcano waiting to explode; he never knew when it might blow again. 

 

     He must have sat there for half an hour before he remembered that he hadn’t collected his slip. 

 

     John glanced back at the doors wondering if Barsad or Bane would still be there. Looking around, there were still a few cars in the lot so it was possible they were there. 

 

     John tapped his thumb against the steering wheel, debating on if he should just get it at the next meeting, when the door opened and Bane stepped out, followed by Barsad. John watched as they conversed, gesturing towards where John sat behind the wheel, unmoving. 

 

     After a moment Barsad approached his car and tapped on the window until John rolled it down. “My brother and I were hoping you hadn’t left yet. Why don’t you come back in and we can meet privately?” 

 

     John furrowed his brow. “Why would that help?” 

 

     “Sometimes opening up is easier when there aren’t so many eyes watching.” Barsad tilted his head, giving John a look that dared him to take the bait. 

 

     With a sigh, John turned the car off and moved to follow Barsad back to the building. Barsad smirked as he shut John’s car door behind him. Bane was waiting at the door, leaning against the wall, the bandana over his face fluttering with his breath. John still didn’t know why he never took it off but figured it wasn’t his place to ask.The man looked amazing, with or without it. Bane’s jeans and T-shirt stretched taut over hard muscles. 

 

Bane pushed the door open and John hesitated. The inside of the building was dark, only a few lights left on, most of the chairs stacked against the wall neatly. “You guys aren’t going to murder me, are you?” John asked only half joking.

 

“I promise, you will be safe with us,” Bane replied with that unusual accent. 

 

John shrugged and stepped inside, Barsad and Bane on his heels. He nearly jumped out of his skin when heavy hands came to rest on his shoulders. “Let me take your coat.” Bane’s voice was far closer than John expected. John cleared his throat, his dick twitching with interest, as he let his leather jacket slip off his shoulders. 

 

Bane led John to the two chairs still remaining, taking a seat in one while offering John the other. 

 

“I’ll be back to get you when you call,” Barsad called over his shoulder as he stepped back out of the door. 

 

“Where’s he going?” John asked, suddenly feeling trapped.

 

Bane didn’t answer; instead he brushed his hand over his bald head before reaching back and untying the bandana. 

 

John couldn’t stifle the gasp that passed his lips. Scars still red from healing bisected Bane’s cheeks, his thick lips crossed with a scar silver with age. Even with the scars and crooked nose, the man was good looking. ‘He must have been beautiful before,’ John thought. 

 

“What happened?” John croaked.

 

Bane swallowed, sitting up straighter. “This is what happens when anger goes unchecked. I was not thinking clearly when I sought revenge. It was barely a week later when they came and did this to me. I am still requiring another surgery to fully repair the damage.” 

 

“Revenge?” John asked, leaning in.

 

“These people had power, money, everything I didn’t have. I was young, impulsive, angry. I got wrapped up with them, doing robberies and shaking people down. I thought I was unstoppable. Then one of them decided they wanted my sister for themselves. She was too pure and kind to be tainted by those low lifes, so I refused. They tried to take her and I fought them off. So they came in the night and took her life instead. I took two of theirs in return. I sometimes wish they had killed me. Instead, I bear these scars to remind me of what I’ve lost. What I failed to protect.” Bane seemed very distant, like he was deep in his own memories. “My anger isn’t at them though. Most are dead now, by one way or another. My anger is at myself and I have to keep it in check.” 

 

Bane leaned in, his forehead inches from John’s own. “Where does your anger come from, John?” 

 

John’s breath stuttered, Bane was so close he could smell the mix of aftershave and sweat. “My mom died in a accident when I was young. I don’t remember her much. But my father, I remember that one just fine. I remember walking up to the door being kicked in. Being dragged out of my bed and forced to my knees on the floor and watching as my father was beaten and then shot. Over what?! Money. He had racked up a sizable gambling debt and they killed him, leaving me to call for help.” John clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. “When you are the angry kid, no one wants to keep you. You bounce from foster home to foster home until nobody will take you and you end up in a boys home.” 

 

John stood abruptly, his chair scooting on the floor. John couldn’t breath, he needed to move, to get out of here. John began to stalk towards the door when strong hands grasped his shoulder. 

 

Without thinking, John lashed out, his vision going black as his fists flew. 

 

     Moments passed before John came back to himself, gasping for breath, strong arms holding him against a broad chest. Bane shushed him, helping John to the floor as his legs gave out. 

 

     “It’s okay, John. You are wanted,” Bane whispered. 

 

     John struggled to get free, his eyes burning with tears. “Fuck you,” he spat. 

 

     “You see John, Barsad and I look at you and see ourselves. You are not alone. Not anymore.” 

 

     John choked on a sob, something inside him cracked, letting the years of grief and loneliness wash over him. Bane held him as his sobs became screams and then whimpers. By the time the tears dried up, John was exhausted. 

 

     “If you don’t let yourself feel things and bottle everything up, eventually those feelings explode and become overwhelming. Let yourself feel.” 

 

     “Let myself feel…” John mumbled, struggling to turn in Bane’s arms. His limbs felt heavy, all the emotions that had bubbled out of him left him feeling vulnerable and touch starved. Bane’s arms were still wrapped tightly around him, and need clenched suddenly in his gut.   “I want to feel you.” John’s lips found Bane’s in a demanding kiss, catching Bane off guard. 

 

     Bane moaned, letting John’s tongue slip between his lips. Bane returned the kiss for a moment before grasping John’s shoulder and pushing him away. 

 

     “I’m sorry John, I can’t do this. This is a unhealthy coping mechanism for you and I can’t take advantage of that.” Bane was breathing heavy, his jeans beginning to tent impressively. 

 

     John shrugged Bane’s hands away, moving to pull his shirt over his head. “I just let off a shit-ton of steam and I want to feel something good. Now you can help me, or I can go down the street and pick up a stranger. But I would rather it be you.” John leaned back on his hands, giving Bane his best “tart on the prowl” look. 

 

     Bane watched him with hungry eyes before giving in with a growl, scooping John around the torso, pressing their bodies together, wrapping John’s thighs around his waist. John ground their hips together as Bane’s hands squeezed his ass. 

 

     “John... are you sure this is what you want? That I am what you want?” Bane asked looking unsure.

 

     “Oh god, yes.” John moaned, his hands finding their way under Bane’s shirt, pulling until he got it off, tossing it across the room. 

 

     John kissed Bane again, letting his fingers explore while Bane opened John’s jeans. John shook as Bane’s large fingers closed around his cock, warmth quickly seeping through the fabric of his underwear. 

 

     John returned the favor, moaning into Bane’s mouth when he felt the size of the man. “One of these days I’m going to let you fuck me with this,” John muttered. 

 

     Bane’s hips surged, as he moaned, sinking his teeth into the tender skin under John’s ear. 

 

     John worked their underwear down before taking Bane’s hand and licking his palm and wrapping it around both of them. John thrust into Bane’s hand, his cock leaking as it slid against Bane’s larger, uncut cock. 

 

     Bane growled, gripping John’s bottom, leading him into a rhythm. Before long they were gasping against each other’s lips, John’s thighs trembling as Bane worked them closer to completion. 

 

     It felt like his heart stopped for a moment before pleasure hit John like a freight train. He came with a cry, his hands clinging to Bane’s shoulders as he shivered, his come coating Bane’s cock with each stuttering stroke. 

 

     Bane was close, his chest shimmered with exertion as he let John slip to his knees before grasping both of John’s hands and closing them tightly around his dick. 

 

     John moaned, worming his way between Bane’s thighs. He worked his hands over Bane’s ridged length before leaning in to swipe his tongue around his foreskin. 

 

     Bane’s breath came in ragged gasps as John sucked and licked his own come from the head of Bane’s cock. When John slipped his tongue under the edge of Bane’s foreskin, slipping it over his glans Bane came with a roar, painting John’s lips and the side of his face with come. 

 

     Bane shook as the last drops of come dribbled over John’s lips. He tangled his fingers in John’s hair, pulling him up for a kiss. 

 

     John felt at peace as he lazily kissed Bane, even as his come was cooling on his face. 

 

     “Well, if I had known this would happen, I would have stuck around.” John nearly jumped out of his skin when Barsad’s voice shattered their bubble. “Oh, don’t mind me. Feel free to get cleaned up… or not.” Barsad winked when John glanced over his shoulder. 

 

     “Brother please, give us a moment?” Bane asked, his voice annoyingly calm. 

 

     Barsad nodded with a grin and stepped back outside. 

 

     Bane sighed as he slipped away from John, standing as he tucked himself back in his jeans. He slipped into the bathroom and came back with a cool cloth which he used to gently clean his come from John’s face. 

 

     “I’m sorry for my brother. He has no concept of privacy.” 

 

     “It’s ok.” John muttered pushing Bane’s hand away before standing and righting his pants. It took a few moments for them to find their shirts but when they were finally dressed things started to feel awkward. 

 

     “So is this where you tell me to find another meeting to attend and I never see you again?” John asked only half joking. 

 

     “So ready to be rejected little bird? No, that is not what happens now.” Bane retrieved his bandana, and tied it back around his face. “What happens now is you keep coming back, and next week after the meeting we go to dinner.” 

 

     John stood there shocked for a moment before agreeing. It had been a long time since he had been on a date. 

 

     Bane’s eyes crinkled with amusement, letting John know he had said that out loud. 

 

     “Well, Barsad is waiting, I don’t want to know what he will do if we leave him much longer.” Bane leaned in and touched his forehead against John’s for a moment before moving towards the door. 

 

     John grabbed his coat and let Bane open the door for him. He did his best to ignore the wolf whistle Barsad let out as he passed but a grin cracked his face anyway. 

 

     He was in his car watching as Bane and Barsad pulled out of the parking lot before John remembered he still didn’t have his paper. 

  
  


*************

 

“John I am very proud of you.” Gordon commented, looking up from the glowing recommendation Barsad had written for him.

 

     John had been faithfully attending his meetings, then attending more personal meetings afterwards. Not all of them ended in sex, sometimes he actually learned some things. It had been four months and John had stopped having blackouts. 

 

      “I think it’s about time you headed back on the beat don’t you?” Gordon grinned, adjusting his glasses. 

 

     “I’ve never been more ready. Just not tonight ok?” John answered. 

 

     Gordon gave him a incredulous look but agreed to start him back the next week.

  
  


     Later that night John visited Bane in the hospital. He had just come out of what they hoped, was the last procedure to repair his jaw. Bane took his hand, his face wrapped in gauze, his eyes hazy with painkillers. John never felt so lucky, so wanted. 

 

     John kissed Bane’s knuckles before he left. 

 

     Barsad was waiting for him at the meeting building and greeted him with a sly half grin. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked

 

     “No, but I’m not going to let that stop me.” John hung up his coat and took his place in the circle. All eyes were on him as he opened the meeting, Barsad at his side.

 

      It’s want Bane had wanted; John to take over for him while he recovered. He was honored, if not terrified, by the request. But he owed it to Bane and Barsad, for the first time he had a place, and a family. 

 

     He was whole. 

  
  



End file.
